Afternoon of November 13, 2023


the sky is falling . . .

we all just stand there

watching

~Kimberly Kuchar



R.I.P.

written in chalk

on the sidewalk

where for months

a panhandler stood

~John J. Dunphy



the way he pours wine unsaid conversations

~Mona Bedi


dying alone phone

~Roberta Beach Jacobson



the safety of a quilt this depression

~Mona Bedi



killed without trial stink bug in toaster

~Roberta Beach Jacobson



measuring scale —

how fragile

this life balance 

~Mona Bedi



thrift shop

unkempt man

offers to trade

his Purple Heart

for a blanket

~John J. Dunphy



summer's end

autumn turns red

with war

~Kimberly Kuchar



bombed fields —

a farmer reaps

emptiness

~Mona Bedi

Afternoon of November 10, 2023

 

we were left with a petal and

empty cider bottles as a souvenir

autumn has never been

so forgotten before

~Mykyta Ryzhykh



the ant

under my

feet


taught me

to be small

~Mykyta Ryzhykh



no one will ask the foliage

about green silence

~Mykyta Ryzhykh



the cage asked the bird

and received no answer

~Mykyta Ryzhykh



tigers in the zoo:

no one sees how

the meat is prepared for them

~Mykyta Ryzhykh



Steak Gone Rogue!


mammal's vital organ

meaty, dark, reddish-brown

On. a. plate. Fried.

eyes, revolted

nose, offended

taste buds, assaulted

mouth, with soap, relieved

~Suzanne S. Austin-Hill



windy day –

braids of garlic

on a crowded bus

~Bonnie J Scherer



a puppy using geomancy to find the bone

~Elliot Diamond



no-see-um bugs I see-um

~Sharon Ferrante



my many faces in a gnat cloud

~Sharon Ferrante



during your vows

teeth lined your sleeves

some large, some small

the guests would weep

to hear the gnashing

~Richard Magahiz



God's seraph

each feather

iridescent paper

~Richard Magahiz



by the fridge

tilted columns

of stacked vertebrae

~Richard Magahiz



Trivia Bliss


I thought I knew everything


there was to know about the Beatles,


and then I read on the internet


John Lennon’s first childhood cat was named Elvis.


Lennon loved cats, the factoid said,


and I love Lennon more for that.

~Charles Rammelkamp



Laugh and cry

One's his fault

The other has no blame

I just can't help it

Love's not as easy

as they make it look on TV

~G. Lynn Brown



urban forest

grandest fir-faux

cell tower

~JL Huffman



soap bubbles

riding wind currents

out of sight

~Richard Bailly



Winter rain feels nothing

but I am getting frostbit

writing cold haiku.

~Noah Berlatsky



The Seagull’s 135th Seguidilla

 

You must know a gull who says,

For reasons unknown,

The sky’s glue. Some believe it,

Never knowing dawn.

How many songbirds

Sing as if the sky is glue?

Something like two-thirds.

~Jake Sheff



The Seagull’s 242nd Seguidilla

 

The fierce continuity

Between the slag-heap

Of dead gull ideas and now

Would make a stag leap.

Ideas like postcards

Floating on the sea to be

Read by the Coast Guard.

~Jake Sheff

Afternoon of November 8, 2023


aches and pains

the subtle differences

between snowflakes

~Robert Witmer



always that one guy asleep on the train

folded in half

~Kathy Watts



Frosted


You think you are a chocolate cake you frosted for dessert. You think your sweet talk more than pays for all the times

I paid your bills and offered you free rent. You expect me to pay the tab when we go out to eat. You never leave a tip. I

have a tip for you, my dear. You are just a frosted flake, and you’re not worth the milk to flush you down my throat and

out the other end.

~Nolcha Fox



a bonbon

on my lifeline

time will tell

~Robert Witmer



odds and ends

the grotesque handles

on the coffin of my dreams

~Robert Witmer



I Don’t Understand


Explain to me this transition from life to death, this nakedness of being between a last sip of coffee and a chiseled

stiff in a coffin, soon to be forgotten. Perhaps this is a last split millisecond to practice the fine art of nothing, a last

whoop where we swing over a chasm of whitewater before we fall. We fall. Without understanding.

~Nolcha Fox



a stranded salmon

its mouth opens and closes

the fear of speaking out

~Wanda Amos



inside

the huge fish

his wife's ring

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel



limp chocolate dashboard rundown

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel



skeleton dance

his bony hands

creep lower

~David C. Kopaska-Merkel



long skeletal branch

stretches deep into autumn woods

swallowed in darkness

~Steve Van Allen



millions of sperm

seeking one egg

new moon

~Wanda Amos



Today I am perfect

For I have done nothing but lie in bed

~Sam Kilkenny



too deep for crows feet

must be

ravens feet

~Kathy Watts



my life

moving into the slow lane…

my smart car

commends me

for my eco driving

~Wanda Amos



vector analysis

a misplaced mosquito

in the palm of my hand

~Robert Witmer

Morning of November 5, 2023

 

  gentle breeze blows

cold upon my neck–

stepping through a ghost

~Jennifer Gurney



under garage door

is guy trapped half-in

or half-out

~Roberta Beach Jacobson



the song was sung long ago

the echo still remains

of voices faint and far off

I do not know the words

~Ann Christine Tabaka



searching for your heart in the hayloft

~Patricia Hawkhead



trembling time wound tight enough to show, don’t tell

~Mark Gilbert



two in the morning

I am awake

I must write


three in the afternoon

I am drained

the ink ran dry

~Ann Christine Tabaka



glistening temptation

I drink from the source

with cupped hands

my muse

played by an actress

~Mark Gilbert



the trees are barren–

reminding me

of me

~Jennifer Gurney


Boredom

 

The man,

bored with

life, drooped like

a wilting flower

unwatered and left to dry out

on a windowsill, blinds drawn in lunar eclipse.

~Steve Gerson



Autumn, will you stop?

The leaves fall; the clock turns back.

But the leaves still fall.

~Noah Berlatsky



superhero


fly in

give the presentation

take questions

have a beer

fly out

~Mark Gilbert



clouds stately & silent

my migraine

squirming & slithery

~Mark Gilbert

Our Pushcart Prize Nominations for Poetry

Pushcart Prize Poetry Nominations

from Five Fleas Itchy Poetry (Poems published during 2023)


I’m a Mural by Jay Passer

 

Baby Dalí by Kelly Moyer

 

Fairy Tales by Gabriel Bates


Sing Gone by Nolcha Fox


49 Cents Change by Keith Snow


Untitled (first line at least two years) by Patrick Sweeney

 


 

Afternoon of October 31, 2023

creeping sepia

the hint of forbidden sea

in the forest

~Alan Summers



my beloved dog

alive and young again

on a VHS tape

~John J. Dunphy



Darkness within

Darkness without

Darkness all about,

 I am afraid of the dark.

~Shirley Smothers



sundown

a

shot

glass

window

sighs

~Alan Summers



the rain in another life’s beer

~Alan Summers



pregnant trees

merciless pecking birds

half-eaten lychee

~Bhawana Upadhyay



offering

a second opinion

mood ring

~Roberta Beach Jacobson



the snow drifting Pissarro’s painting shadows mostly red

~Alan Summers



Moses recommended

taking the tablets

because they’d be good for us.

~Tony Dawson



Tony Dawson said to Descartes:

Thinking outside the box

is the very definition of being alive.”

~Tony Dawson



almost 10 quintillion insects on Earth at all times maintain radio silence

~Alan Summers

Evening of October 30, 2023


splendor

found in lacquered tears

dynasties

~Alfred Booth



now is the allegory of the cell phone

~Patrick Sweeney



day of the 

                my phone dead

~John J. Dunphy



letting go of fear

                         I step out of

                                                    the plane

~Jennifer Gurney



rabbit hole jammed with Alices

~Patrick Sweeney



Carpet

 

When we

pull apart from

each other

there is a rip –

we are carpet.


~Ryan Quinn Flanagan



the punctuality of dread

~Patrick Sweeney



my Halloween senryu barebones

~John J. Dunphy



not one complaint from the dragonfly swarm

~Patrick Sweeney



letting go of

those voices in my head

saying I can't

~Jennifer Gurney



solving the coagulating mystery of my grandfather's styptic pencil

~Patrick Sweeney



Tolstoy's War and Peace–

thirteen hundred ninety two

pages of advice

~Jennifer Gurney

Afternoon of October 28, 2023


I’ve read and studied

but still I cannot fathom

how a zipper works

~James Penha



the living dead

offer me leftovers

a middle finger

all I wanted

was a Kit Kat

~Sharon Ferrante



If the Day Was a Zebra


A zebra day is no-frills simple, choices are black and white, no gray. Boundaries are defined. I

start here. You start there. I’m always a vegetarian on a zebra day. There is no latest diet fad. I

know my herd, I know where I belong on a zebra day. And mine know me. I know my enemies

on a zebra day. I know I can run or fight. I don’t need to ask my therapist what to do. I don’t

need therapy. I am what you see. Take it or leave it.

~Nolcha Fox



adrift down the stream of consciousness without a paddle

~Mark Meyer



between two slices of rye death poem

~Roberta Beach Jacobson



the bloody truth I cut myself on Occam's razor

~Mark Meyer



one footprint by the shallow grave

~Elliot Diamond



critique of pure reason a fruitful dialectic with a fruit fly

~Mark Meyer



Fleas in the morning lie dormant – rouse in afternoon autumn sun

~Julie A. Dickson



nothingness for dummies two-hundred-six pages of nada

~Mark Meyer



bargain basement clearance a mixed bag of overused emotions

~Mark Meyer



divorce final

I add more pineapple

to the pizza

~Sharon Ferrante



A Götterdämmerung Vibe

 

Look at those people. Hammering in the windows,

scaling the walls of the Capitol.”

And that noose! The one meant for Pence.”

The dude hanging from a balcony in the Senate chamber.”

The guy with the painted face and horned helmet.”

All egged on by the sore loser. Amazing.”

Twilight of the gods.”

Wagner would have killed for this story.

And by ‘Wagner’ I mean the Russian mercenaries.”

~Charles Rammelkamp



deadly nightshade


I water everything

beyond the gate


even poison

has a whisper

when it drips

~Sharon Ferrante



Outsider Art


I am a found object,

claimed at the roadside

on your journey

toward the afterlife.

What shall we create

of such good fortune

but a world

where our lonesome,

tethered souls

can, at last, be free?

~Kelly Moyer